


Outgoing Messages

by Frogmen



Series: No One Is Happy With This [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Also I haven't read the Unicron or most of the RID side of the comics, Gen, LL24 spoilers, also it's jsut all dialogue, because that's Rodimus's level up ability, human swears, so I'm just going off what I hear is happening from tumblr, so so many human swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 16:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16370732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frogmen/pseuds/Frogmen
Summary: Rodimus has cell reception and would like some help when it comes to the millions of children they're all dealing with.





	Outgoing Messages

[BEEP]

“Hey Optimus, call me back when you get this.  Like, immediately. Just picking up now would be great actually.  But when you  _ do _ get this it would be really helpful if you could just start sending as many doctors, blacksmiths, anyone who’s dealt with sparklings before really, or wants to help, and just get them to these coordinates I’m texting you as fast as  _ goddamn _ possible.”

[BEEP]

“Starscream?  Starscream it’s Rodimus.  I really need as many people out to these coords as possible.   _ Please _ .  There’s kind of the biggest hot spot in known history right in front of us right now.  And we’ve barely got anybody to deal with it. Just anyone who knows what to do with kids?”

[BEEP]

“Optimus are you not picking up because you think we were fucking with you with that video?  Because that was real, so is this hot spot, which is, uh, thirty-four and a half million strong according to folks eyeballing it.  I should have mentioned that in the first message but, context clues.”

[BEEP]

“Hi Windblade, this is Rodimus, Nautica gave me your number.  Anyway, any chance you could round up a few million medics, blacksmiths, and sparkling care technicians?  We’re in the Benzene Quadrant and there’s kind of a massive hotspot and we’re shit outta luck when it comes to local help.  Also what’s going on? Optimus and Starscream aren’t picking up.”

[Beep]

“Look, this is a real emergency, we’re on this weird functionist planet and we killed the government but most of the civilians are too afraid to do something they ‘weren’t made for’ to help out.  And as it turns out, the government here had been shadowplaying sparkling specialists into other things after their hot spots dried up. So we’ve got, uh, three thousand volunteers or so, including my crew, trying to sort this mess before they have a chance to sputter out.”

“So…  Get the lead out, Optimus,  and- WHAT THE SHIT IS THAT A WARWORLD?”

[Beep]

“Hey so it’s been a few hours, but hey you left me hanging too, so let’s call it even and you pick up the damn phone.  Things are okay-ish? I mean there’s five hundred Decepticons running around and I’m like a hundred percent sure they actually tried to kill us a few weeks ago, but they’re helping so I guess we have a truce?”

“Which is good because you literally can’t swing a dead cat without almost stepping on an eighty-niner.  Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention there’s like so many point one percenters around we’re calling them eighty-niners now.  As in eighty-nine percent. Which apparently is rounding which apparently makes Perceptor snippy but whatever.”

“Anyways send a lot of people as soon as possible.  Because I heard a medic and Deathsaurus talking about how many to take with them.  And that seems kinda bad. Merchant army taking as many super-brawlers as they want.  Which is hard to do anything about because we  _ don’t _ have an army.”

[BEEP]

“Look if you’re seeing these messages and just figuring that you’re too busy you’re going to feel like a  _ real _ prick when you open one.  So there better be an emergency, and- stop moving, stop moving- GOD DAMMIT WHY CAN’T HOLD ALL THESE BABIES- SHITSHITSHITSHIT-”

[BEEP]

“For the record I didn’t drop any sparklings, I dropped the phone.  They just move a lot more than I thought they would and I couldn’t keep the phone propped up too.  But hey, once again-... It’s Optimus!”

“No!  He isn’t even picking up!”

“Yeah, mood!”

“Sure, sure just a second!”

“Gonna pass you over for a minute.”

“Optimus, this is Ratchet.  Understand that Ideally we would have the entire hot spot harvested within three to five hours of appearance with a ratio of one trained carer to ten sparklings at the most.  This is the largest hot spot in recorded history and we’re so understaffed we’re running a triage of harvesting whichever ones are flagging at the moment. One of the medics is commanding a full battle contingent of Decepticons and I heard her calling a fast developer a 'regular Tarn’.  And on top of everything else, most of our volunteers are running on a basic data packet of care procedures, and half have already had a breakdown. Today. This is a disaster and we need backup.”

“So whatever the hell is taking you this long to respond better be good.  Because we dealt with sadists, sparkeaters, a parallel universe, several beings claiming to be gods, and a destructive planet-sized monstrosity controlled by functionists.  And we’re still dealing with this after settling all of that.”

“So you better have been dealing with something more important, fragger.”

“...Also Roller says hi.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look if they're ever going to fire the chekov's gun that is Nickel's armada then there's not much else of a choice where to pull it. But they would probably end up appreciating the help.


End file.
